


you were made to become a sanctuary

by LailaLiquorice



Category: Six - Marlow/Moss
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Fluff, Gen, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Painkillers, Stitches, boleyn loves her mum, the softest aragon you have ever seen, they're both vulnerable but they look after each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-31 11:45:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19425322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LailaLiquorice/pseuds/LailaLiquorice
Summary: Anne stumbles home injured, and Aragon is there to look after her almost-not-quite-daughter when she needs her.





	you were made to become a sanctuary

Despite the fact that Aragon had been a mother longer than anyone else had been, she wasn’t the chief ‘mum friend’ out of the group. That title belonged very firmly to Jane, who never failed to look after them all whenever they needed someone to mother them. From the usually sceptical Cleves who accepted the help while only pretending not to need it, to the very willing Kat who had been in obvious need of a maternal figure from the second she was reincarnated. And Jane was the perfect person to provide that for them all.

But that didn’t mean that Aragon wasn’t the motherly type. She had raised her daughter for fifteen years before her divorce so knew a thing or two about mothering teenagers, meaning that both Jane and Kat had come to her for advice that the two couldn’t take from each other. She knew how to read expressions like words and could always tell when someone was unwell or upset or just needed someone to check in with them. Perhaps she wasn’t as much of an outward mother hen as Jane was, but that didn’t mean she didn’t feel that sort of care towards her younger queens.

As a result, all her alarm bells were sent ringing at the sound of someone stumbling over the doorstep very late one night.

The sound of quiet cursing told her it was Anne, which made sense since she’d gone out after the show to meet with a historian and had told the others not to wait up for her. It was only by chance that Aragon was still awake herself – she’d lost track of time while reading – but she was immediately very glad that she had been as she hurried out of the kitchen towards the front door. Anne was holding onto the doorframe as she clumsily pulled her shoes off, and she would have almost fallen a second time if she hadn’t managed to catch herself on the chest of drawers.

“Are you drunk?” Aragon asked, watching her through concerned eyes.

Anne shook her head, seeming slightly off though Aragon could tell she was trying desperately to play it off. “No, ‘m fine. Just a bit tired,” she insisted, walking past Aragon into the kitchen.

But there was definitely something wrong, Aragon realised as she scrutinised her carefully. A slight limp in her walk, one arm held stiffly to her side, the dazed look in her eyes. She was about to follow Anne when out of the corner of her eye she noticed a dark smear on the doorframe she was sure hadn’t been there before. After casting a quick glance towards Anne to make sure she wasn’t looking she went over to take a closer look, and her stomach dropped when she realised what she’d originally thought was just dirt was actually crimson.

She didn’t say anything as she rushed back into the kitchen and grabbed Anne’s wrist without explanation. Sure enough, there were red stains on her fingertips which confirmed Aragon’s fears. “Is this blood?” she asked, eyeing her intently.

“…No?” Anne answered vaguely, not meeting Aragon’s gaze.

“Anne, please,” Aragon said, refusing to let go of her in case she tried to run off. “This is blood, isn’t it?”

There was a second where she thought Anne was going to deny it again, before her lower lip trembled and she gave a shallow nod. “Yeah,” she whispered, suddenly looking incredibly small.

Aragon’s expression softened at the pitiful sight of her, relaxing her grip on Anne’s wrist as she led her over to the table. “Sit down and let me see,” she ordered gently, waiting with arms outstretched in case Anne needed the support as she sat before pulling up her own chair.

Anne was quiet as she pulled off her jacket, and it was hard for Aragon not to recoil in horror as she saw the deep cuts in Anne’s shoulder from which dark blood flowed sluggishly over pale skin. The pained wince on her face was unmissable as she pulled up her skirt to reveal similar wounds on one knee which the material had stuck to. And when she looked at Aragon for the first time, she saw the shallow graze over one eyebrow which had been hidden by her hair until then.

“I was walking home from the pub where I met the historian and someone grabbed me,” she began without Aragon needing to prompt the story out of her. “I dunno what he wanted, me or my purse probably. Kicked him in the balls to make him let go, but when I tried to go he smashed a bottle and hit me over the shoulder with it, then pushed me over where all the glass was. I just got up and ran the rest of the way home.”

A few tears had rolled down her cheek as she spoke and her breathing had quickened with panic, prompting Aragon to lean forwards and take her hands gently. “Breathe, Anne, you’re home and safe now,” she said, giving Anne a reassuring smile as Anne nodded and inhaled deeply through her nose. “There you go. Now hold tight for a moment while I fetch a few things.”

Anne nodded again, and Aragon squeezed her hands before getting up and heading for the medicine cabinet. She was always grateful in times like these that Jane liked to keep it so well stocked, since the first aid kit was practically overflowing with antiseptic wipes and plasters of all shapes and sizes. After a thought occurred to her she paused in her rummaging to flick the kettle on, and when she sat back down at the table she handed Anne a mug of hot chocolate before laying her medical supplies over the table.

“Drink that, it’ll help with the shock,” she said, giving Anne a knowing smile before she got to work.

A look of confusion crossed Anne’s face as she sniffed the contents of her mug, but it was followed by a tiny smile as she took a sip. “You think of everything,” she quipped in a fragile voice, and Aragon couldn’t help but give a short huff of laughter.

There was mostly silence between them as Aragon cleaned up the gashes on Anne’s knee and down her shin from where she’d landed on the pavement littered with glass shards. Aragon gave herself a moment of relief when she cleaned the grit away and found no glass lodged in any of the cuts, murmuring frequent apologies as Anne flinched away from the sting of the antiseptic. After securing a large square of gauze dressing, she got Anne to turn her chair slightly so she could work on her shoulder.

A thoughtful hum escaped her as she surveyed the circle of deep cuts, noting with growing concern how they were still bleeding profusely and staining her once-white vest top scarlet. “I think you might need to get stitches put in these,” she said quietly.

She felt Anne’s shoulders tense beneath her hands, before she relaxed with a sigh. “Ok,” she said with a nod, looking back at Aragon with a resigned smile. “Are we going now?”

“Yes,” Aragon nodded, getting to her feet first and offering her hands to help Anne stand.

Her support quickly turned out to be well needed when Anne stood up on her injured leg and immediately cursed loudly in agony. Aragon’s arms shot out to catch her as she stumbled over sideways, hopping on her other leg as she fought to regain her balance. “Swear it wasn’t hurting this much when I was running home,” she muttered, letting out a breathless and obviously pained laugh.

“That was probably the adrenaline,” Aragon pointed out, pulling Anne’s arm over her shoulders and putting the other hand on her waist to take as much of her weight as she could. “Come on, let’s get you into the car.”

“Hold up,” Anne said, leaning over to snag the keys off the hook before grabbing onto Aragon’s shoulders again and letting her help her out to the car.

After getting Anne into the passenger seat, an activity that made Aragon wish she had Anna’s strength to just lift her in, they were off to the hospital. Their time in the waiting room was spent with Aragon sat in one chair and Anne laid across about four with her head in Aragon’s lap, and Aragon didn’t even realise she’d started playing with Anne’s hair until Anne let out a happy hum as she relaxed under her touch. Aragon stilled for a second, suddenly afraid of something she couldn’t quite put her finger on, before Anne pouting up at her prompted her to continue.

A voice calling out “Miss Boleyn,” ended the moment between them, and Aragon just smiled down at Anne before helping her to her feet again.

They were taken into a treatment room where thankfully Aragon had an extra pair of hands to help Anne up onto the bed. The doctor quickly confirmed Aragon’s suspicion that stitches were required, and the question if Anne wanted pain relief as the stitches were put in was met with a “Yes” so quick that Aragon had to roll her eyes in both amusement and exasperation.

Anne was sat on the bed facing Aragon as the stitches were put in, holding the gas and air mouthpiece in one hand and clinging onto Aragon with the other. Her scared eyes scarcely left Aragon’s face as the doctor worked, with Aragon murmuring quiet encouragements every time she flinched a little during the procedure. Once everything was finished and the graze on her forehead had been looked at too, they were sent home with instructions on when to change the dressings and an appointment booked in a week’s time to get them removed.

“Catalina?” Anne whined as Aragon attempted with difficulty to get her out of the car once they were home; the painkillers had gone to her head and made her a little loopier than usual. “Catalinaaaaaaa?”

“What is it Anne?” Aragon asked as she finally managed to get Anne onto the driveway, shutting the car door before leading her into the house. The words alone might have come across as fed up, but there was a fond look in her eyes and note of amusement in her voice upon hearing her Spanish name as she helped Anne through the doorway.

Anne was quiet as she watched Aragon take her shoes off. Aragon was beginning to think she’d forgotten her question altogether when she spoke again, looking up at her through wide eyes. “Do you love me?”

The question made Aragon pause for a split second, the same misgivings she’d had in the hospital waiting room flooding back, before she saw the hope in Anne’s face and relaxed. From how they’d started out after their reincarnation, their relationship had grown and changed until Aragon was finding herself thinking of her like she had once thought of her Mary without even realising it. Sometimes that realisation scared her; it wasn’t only the guilt at essentially replacing her daughter, but the fear that something would take Anne away from her in the same way she’d once lost Mary. But, if her second chance was going to be worth anything, she was determined to leave those ghosts firmly in her past.

“I do,” Aragon finally answered just as Anne’s eyes dropped, and she felt her misgivings melt away at the sight of Anne’s grin. “Like you’re my own daughter. And I’m sorry I don’t show it more often.”

Aragon didn’t know how Anne managed it without tripping over her own feet in her inebriated state, but barely a second passed before she had Anne’s arms around her neck in a tight hug. “Thanks mum,” she whispered in Aragon’s ear.

Tears pooled in Aragon’s eyes upon hearing the word she hadn’t heard in nearly five hundred years. Anne’s sudden sway pulled her from her shock and she wrapped her arms around the younger girl’s back, too touched to feel any shame as Anne watched her shed a happy tear.

**Author's Note:**

> The second of seven anon requests on tumblr, and this was actually sent in by two people! The prompt is “Is that blood?” “…No?” and anon #2 asked for Aragon and Boleyn, which was what I’d planned anyway so I was v happy!
> 
> Honestly I love the Aragon and Boleyn mother/daughter duo so damn much. This has vulnerable Aragon and Boleyn angst so might just be one of my favourite oneshots yet because we all know those are two of my favourite things. Five more oneshots to go to get these prompts done but I'm loving writing these!
> 
> I'm lailaliquorice on tumblr :)


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